**This story will continue references to homophobia and violence throughout. Reader discretion is advised**
**This is my first every attempt at erotica content so I hope you enjoy!**
I pushed my glasses up my nose, my face slick with sweat as I did my best to wheel the suitcase through the long, crowded hall. College move-in day arrived with a hot and humid air that made moving my stuff up several floors a form of torture more than a fun, new experience. My brother stalked ahead of me, navigating the halls with more swiftness and dexterity than I could ever accomplish.
He turned, raising an eyebrow at my lack of grace as I almost tumbled over an abandoned suitcase.
"This wouldn't be a problem if you, oh I don't know, actually worked out every once in a while."
"Ryan, some of us are built for sport, some of us are not. I am part of the former category. Always have been, always will be."
"Then maybe College is the time to change things, Cal. Join a team, do something different, make some friends."
"No, thanks."
"You're impossible." He shook his head, his dark curls bouncing.
Several girls walking along the hall giggled at him, glancing back as they walked past and whispering behind their hands. Ryan had always been the better looking one out of us with the curly hair, lean physique, and a charming smile that always had the girls swooning. That wasn't me. I was the nerdy one in the cardigan and glasses who could get knocked over by a really strong breeze.
His idea of College and my idea of College were two completely different things. I wasn't interested in impressing the girls. They had never been my type, and he knew that. Sports groups just sounded like hell, and I had never been all that confident in making friends. Just talking to people made me uncomfortable. Moving into a dorm room with someone I didn't know, especially another guy, terrified me.
We continued down the long hallway. I trained my eyes on the ground as a shirtless guy emerged from one of the rooms, sweat glistening off his body. Heat rose in my cheeks. Ryan turned to look at me, laughing as he enjoyed the awkwardness of it all. Traitor.
Ryan waited for me to catch up and then pushed the door to my door room open with his toe. I followed him into the room, the wheel of the suitcase catching on the door frame and causing me to stumble.
"Smooth, Cal, smooth," Ryan said, biting back a laugh.
"Coming from the guy who threw a hot coffee down himself whilst on a date."
"If it makes you feel any better, I had food poisoning on a first date. I did not get a second one." A soft chuckle filled the room.
I looked up from my suitcase. Standing across from me with a small sheepish smile on his face was the person I could only assume was my roommate. He had light, sandy-colored hair that sat across his forehead in small, loose curls. There was a dimple on his right cheek and, even from across the room, I could see his startling green eyes. He wore a tight shirt that clung to his chest and arms.
God, he was hot.
His strong build reminded me of the football players in High School that I used to avoid in the halls, but there was a kindness in his eyes that wasn't present in High School. He fidgeted a little, tugging on the top of his shirt. I would have given anything to see what he could do with those hands.
I shifted a little, my palms growing sweaty. Get a hold of yourself, Cal, I thought.
"Put your eyes back in your head, Cal," Ryan muttered, patting me on the back. "You must be Cal's roommate. I'm his brother, Ryan."
"Luca."
Ryan approached him and held his hand out, the two of them shaking for a split second. He turned around to me with a slight raise of his eyebrow and an amused smile dancing on his lips. Being my brother, he had come to read me like a book.
"I'm Caleb," I said, shaking my head a little. "Most people call me Cal."
"What's your Major?" Luca asked, running a hand through his hair.
"History. You?"
"Physical Therapy. Hey, maybe you can help me study. I've never been very academic."
Ryan clapped me on the back. "Cal would love to help. He's very studious." He turned to me and wiggled his eyebrows before laughing.
"Need some help moving the rest of your stuff? I'm all sorted and my parents have gone home, so I'm free to lend a hand."
"That would be great. Cal's arms would snap if he lifted anything more than a twig."
I shoved him hard, heat rising in my cheeks. "Not funny."
"Come on, little bro, let's get the rest of your stuff and then I can leave you two to chat."
"So annoying," I muttered.
He laughed, stepping out of the room and back into the hallway that was still crowded with people moving their things into their rooms. I glanced at Luca, who smiled warmly and gestured me to the door. I turned away from him, unable to fight the rising blush on my cheeks as I stepped from the room and followed Ryan back to the elevator to get the rest of my things.
With Luca's help, it didn't take us too long to move the last of my stuff from the car to the dorm room, including the mini-fridge that Ryan insisted I take. By the time we finished, I was more sweat than man, which certainly didn't lend itself to making the best first impression on my oh-so-attractive roommate.
Ryan, being the child that he was, found the whole thing hysterical and kept laughing at me whenever I tripped over my own foot or almost dropped something. I was glad when he finally decided to call it a day and start the drive back home, even more so when he wiggled his eyes between myself and Luca before he left. Subtly had never been his strong suit.
It's not that I was ever uncomfortable with being gay. I had been pretty certain of that since I was about seven and first saw Leonardo DiCaprio in Titanic. What I wasn't comfortable with was people knowing when I didn't know them well enough. For all I knew, Luca could hate me.
"Your brother seems cool," Luca said, sitting on the edge of his bed. He reached underneath and grabbed a football, throwing it in the air as I started to unpack my things.
"He's a nightmare. He lives to torment me."
Luca laughed. "Sounds like my sister. Cleo knows just how much she can push it without Mom telling her off." He laughed. "What about your parents? They working?"
I scratched the back of my neck. "I don't really talk with them anymore. Haven't for a few years."
"Sorry, man. Shouldn't have asked. Not my business."
